


Now Hiring! Socially Awkward Girlfriend!

by rankarana



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: 'slow burn' but not really but a bit., F/F, college/young adult AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 17:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15976631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rankarana/pseuds/rankarana
Summary: Everyone comes to terms with their sexuality in their own way; and it's not always as simple as just waking up one morning, realising they want to kiss girls, and somehow actually managing to achieve that....that being said: it's 2018, and there's gotta be better methods of finding your first girlfriend than putting up flyers.(Misaki, Hagumi, try-before-you-buy dating, and the existential dread that comes from being a futch who wears a mascot suit for a living.)





	Now Hiring! Socially Awkward Girlfriend!

**Author's Note:**

> fic 'inspired' by this tweet and flyer: https://twitter.com/rankarana/status/1038829379667804160
> 
> people found the tweet funny so! i hope the idea still holds up when actually. expanded out into a fic.

**_Now Hiring! OwO_ **

**_Socially acward girlfriend_ **

  * _**Free Headpats**_


  * **_My eternal love and affection_**


  * **_croquettes?_**


  * **_Uhh… NYA! >~<_**



**_Call or Text:_ **

**_+81........_ **

 

 

Hina holds up the flyer, clearly torn off whatever it had been stuck to, with evident _pride_ , like she’d found  exactly what Misaki was asking for when she asked for a ‘high income, low effort, short term job.’

“Hiring, right? That means they pay you!”

“...I don’t wanna do, like, compensated dating.”

“Yeah, but what do you value more? Dignity or money!?” That’s a cruel question to ask, to a girl whose main source of income is dressing up in a bear outfit and flailing around in front of small children, but Misaki thinks there’s definitely _some_ kind of line to be drawn there. She just has to figure out what it is.

“It’s… effort, though. I don’t wanna do makeup, and get my hair cut, and, like, pretend to be some lusty naughty co-ed or whatever.” Misaki leans back on the park bench, staring up at the grey, grey sky. They probably shouldn’t be having this discussion in a public space, especially since she’s technically part of the town’s whole family-friendly mascot merchandising industry, but Hina’s too socially maladjusted (hey, why doesn’t _Hina_ go for the job) and she’s just too fucking _tired_ to care.

“Aww! I don’t think that’s what they’re into, though!” She’s trying to look up at the sky, but Hina’s taken the liberty of standing right above her, blotting out the daylight with her smug face. “They want a ‘ _socially ackward_ \- that’s ackward, sic - _girlfriend’,_ so like, uh…”

...talk about damning with faint praise, huh.

“Me,” Misaki growls, pointing a lazy finger at herself, and Hina purses her lips tight and nods for a few seconds before delivering her verdict.

“Yep…”

“Why’d you keep saying ‘they’, anyway? It’s gonna be some creepy dude.”

“Hey! You gotta be respectful.”

\--she can’t decide whether _‘...of what?’_ or _‘you? respectful?’_ is the right suitably dismissive tone to be taking right now, so Misaki chokes back the negativity, until she feels Hina’s hand in her hoodie’s pouch, reaching around to grab at her phone. She might be stronger than Hina, but that doesn’t mean the town weirdo is easy to stop - she’s, like, rapidly vibrating in Misaki’s grip, grinning right down at her until Misaki twists her wrist hard enough that Hina’s grin turns into a pained half-grimace.

Not that that stops her trying to steal Misaki’s phone, because Hina’s way too _Hina_ for that.

“I’m just saying, you should call them! See what their rates are!”

“Not on my fucking phone!”

“Oh?” And Hina stops struggling, her hand hanging limp and pulling back far enough out of the pocket that Misaki thinks it’s maybe safe to let her go. Maybe. She puts her other hand into her pouch and holds her phone tight, just in case. “Okay! That’s fair. I’ll call them on mine!”

“No? Don’t?” Which doesn’t stop Hina, and Misaki finds the phone pressed against her ear, ringing once, twice, and-- only twice.

God, whoever’s on the other side has to be desperate.

“...h-hello? Hey…?”

...the voice that comes out the other end is definitely a girl’s, no mistaking it. One about their age, maybe, and from how her voice trembles, she probably wasn’t expecting to actually get called-- called by a girl, even. Not that Misaki’s talked yet, but whoever’s on the other end has definitely got her hopes up.

 _What the fuck_ , Misaki thinks, trying to force the word “Hi” to come out of her mouth instead.

 

* * *

 

They set a date, and a place, to meet up - some small cafe on the east end of town, far enough from Misaki’s usual haunts and her mascot base of operations that at least she won’t be at risk of being recognised. The girl on the other end - Hagumi, apparently - seemed so _excited_ at the entire proposition that by the end of their chat even Misaki couldn’t justify saying that this was really weird and out of her comfort area and she honestly just wanted to call the whole thing off.

Hina elbowing her in the ribs to encourage her, though? ...that didn’t actually help Hagumi’s case.

But the day came, and Misaki’d accepted some kind of weird responsibility, that if she was going to go and tell this girl - assuming she was actually a girl, because if Misaki didn’t see some girl who looked like she sounded (and from how she sounded, Misaki kind of expected some combo of dyed hair, fucked up ear piercings, some menhera-ass fashion sense, and combat boots; but maybe she was kind of projecting a little there), she wasn’t even entering that cafe.

When she got there, the place looked cute, at least; vaguely Americana-ish, proudly proclaiming she was welcome to Kobayashi’s Coffee n’ Nachos, which sounded like a pretty awful combination, but - you do you, Kobayashi. And you do you too, weird vaguely androgynous girl in there with some messy ginger DIY bob cut, and a hideous dress that looked like her grandma’s curtains, and, oh, hey, some sturdy-looking, worn-out black boots-- and yeah, Misaki realises. That’s Hagumi. That _has_ to be.

 _Misaki?_ she mouths over at her - or, well, her lips make it look more like _Mi-misasasaki?_ , but Misaki nods either way, and  shuffles across the cafe, keeping her cap pulled a little down just in case there’s someone she knows here. Can never be too safe.

Clearly Hagumi got here before she did, too - there’s already a fresh plate of nachos on the table in front of her, the girl awkwardly pawing at them in the way that makes it clear that she’s _really_ hungry, but didn’t want to start before Misaki arrived; and as soon as she takes a seat, Hagumi immediately  pulls a cheese-covered tortilla chip from the pile and bites down on it, introducing herself with a mouth full of food.

“H-hey-- uh, mm.” She swallows before continuing, pulling a face like something went down the wrong way but she’s got way more important things to worry about right now. “You’re, um, Misaki! Right?”

“Yeah. Hagumi?”

“Hagumi!” She nods vigorously, clearly trying to restrain herself from eating any more nachos by exaggerating every other part of how she acts - but then again, considering that weirdly squeaky voice and how she, uh, _looks_ , maybe that’s just part of her.

“I saw your advert.” No fucking shit, Misaki. You (well, Hina, but) phoned her about it.

“Yeah! I was really surprised you replied so quickly! Or that anyone did, but I guess it got your attention!” At least she seems self-aware enough to know that a ‘hiring girlfriend’ flyer isn’t exactly the kind of sales pitch that’d get a lot of girls interested. Except Hina. Who wasn’t actually the one who was here right now.

“Haha, yeah, kind of.” Misaki’s finding it hard to keep eye contact with the girl; there’s something scary about the way she looks at you, but not in the serial killer sense - _probably_ not the serial killer sense, she’s still reserving judgement - and more in the _fuck, it’s like staring directly into the sun_ way. “You come here often? Seems like a pretty interesting place.”

“Oh! Yeah, sometimes! With friends. They do real good nachos here, haha…” There’s no coffee on the table in front of her, though, but considering the sheer _energy_ this girl is giving off, Misaki thinks that’s probably for the best. “And ice cream!” She picks up the menu, poking it in Misaki’s direction with a few rapid thrusts. She takes it, and idly flicks through the menu, looking to see if there’s something she wants to order; because she feels weird   _not_ buying anything, but what’s she meant to go for? An espresso? Being _too_ sober right now seems like it’d be a terrible idea in its own way.

It's been two whole minutes since she sat down in one of the squeaky red vinyl chairs, and Misaki looks at the entrance to the cafe again. It's not too late to go, she realises, not too late to awkwardly excuse herself from the company of the tiny girl in front of her. She'll have to turn down the nachos being pushed in her direction, sure, and never come anywhere near this part of town for the next 6 months, sure, but she can leave. Just mumble 'sorry', grab her jacket, and run out into the street.

....the nachos do look pretty good, though.

Good enough that she thinks _whatever, free lunch_ , reaches over and grabs a proper _handful_ from the plate, ungraciously shovelling them into her mouth, while Hagumi smiles at her with a disarming level of interest. It’s making her think this is probably the first even vaguely date-like thing that Hagumi’s ever been on.

Even if this is meant to be some kind of business meeting.

“...these are good.” Cheesy, unhealthy, greasy but still crisp, slightly spicy, really heart-attack-y, proper nachos. Definitely worse date spots in town than Kobayashi’s, Misaki thinks. “Mm. Thanks a lot. I don’t wanna steal your whole plate, though--”

“Oh, um, no, you can have as much as you wanna. You can have the whole thing!” And, despite Misaki having shown up to this whole joint trying to get paid, she starts to wonder if Hagumi’s actually got any money. She hasn’t bought a drink, or offered to buy one, and, like, _look_ at her. She’s skinny in the way that Misaki feels looks just a little bit unhealthy, and--

Crap. Why is she getting emotionally attached to a girl who put up a _Hiring An Uwu Cute Awkward GF_ poster in public.

“Nah, you paid for them. They’re yours.”

Misaki pushes the nachos, slightly, towards Hagumi.

Hagumi vibrates a little, and pushes them back.

Misaki pushes them again, but a little less far, right to the dead center of the table; and Hagumi goes to push them one more time before she looks right at Misaki, and the sun meets the moon— or, uh, Hagumi’s warm gaze hits her cold, cold, “the like, colour of Linkin Park’s _Hybrid Theory_ ” (according to Hina, trying to explain ‘dem synasthesia feels’) eyes, and realises she can’t make Misaki take the plate.

So she takes a handful of nachos like Misaki did, her weirdly small hand not able to pick anywhere as many up but _trying._ Unable to think of anything to say, Misaki nods at her affirmatively.

“Nachos taste even better when you eat ‘em with someone,” Hagumi confides to her, with a mouth full of corn, leaning in like it’s a secret - and Misaki has to admit, she really _is_ like the sun. Her face is so bright, and full of light, as if it’s overcompensating for how small she is; her smirk  hooks up in a way that… kind of makes her look like a goblin. In a cute way. The rest of her face is kinda cute, too - she’s got the _start_ of a proper jaw growing in, and there’s some kind of cheeky charm to the messy hair and her wide, wide eyes, and--

...well, still not _quite_ Misaki’s type.

“...yeah,” Misaki confirms, or something. She’s pulling back, just a little - but since the girl’s in a good mood, she comes right out with it. “So you’re looking for a girlfriend?”

“Mm!” She leans down, reaching into a bag under the table, fishing out a piece of paper covered in Comic Sans, 12pt, and Misaki hopes to god it’s not a contract, because that’d change the mood from ‘surreal and mildly cringe’ to ‘outright embarrassing’. She can’t see a ‘sign here’, though, so, uh, safe? “Yeah! Yeah. That’s why you’re here, right?”

Misaki thought she’d already confirmed that, multiple ways, but maybe Hagumi’s just _that_ unbelieving. That’s fair.

“Yeah. Socially awkward girl.” She leaves off the friend, because she doesn’t want to get Hagumi’s hopes up; especially since that vague glimmer of hope she was going to get paid for this is quickly fading.

“So, uh…” Hagumi runs her finger down the sheet, like she’s mentally ticking off a checklist. “Yeah! Hehe, I hope you like croquettes.” Misaki’s not the best upside-down reader in the world, but she can pick out some phrases:

    1. _a girl!!_
      1. _not creepy_ ;
      2. __a bit weird (but not too weird!!!1!1)__
      3. _Perhaps with a body that calls to  mind comfort or familiarity?_
      4. _cute?? ><_



 

She’s no Edogawa Conan, but Misaki’s deductive faculties tells her that it looks like it’s been written by at least two authors, maybe more, like Hagumi had to crowdsource her ideas for a girlfriend.

“They’re alright?”

“They’re the best - I mean, if you have the good ones! And my family make them, y’see,   _really_ good ones, I’ll definitely get you some! It was on the advert, right?” At one of the points - a little too far down the list for Misaki to easily immediately read it - Hagumi’s finger stops and pokes at the sheet a couple of times. “Uh, Misaki? --it’s cool if I call you that, right? Do you have any experience with, um, this stuff? Oh, and, do ya like Sekai no Owari? And - oh my god, I shoulda asked you this one first, have ya got any allergies? Also, what do you--” She doesn’t give Misaki a gap to reply to any of them, eyes flitting between Misaki and the list, until she catches Misaki open her mouth and shut it quickly again and then _immediately_ cuts herself off, like she hasn’t realised how much she’s been babbling. “Um. S-sorry. Real nervous over here. Should I repeat ‘em?”

“I, uh, think I got them?” She reaches over to the nacho pile, considering whether to pick one up, but just breaks off the corner of a chip instead. “Misaki’s cool. And, this stuff, you mean… hired girlfriend work?”

“Yeah! Or just, in general.”

There is _no way_ this girl has even held another girl’s hand, Misaki realises, not in a mutually gay way. Misaki’s not sure what the best way to respond to that is, so she kind of just shrugs and lets out a low murmur, and that earns an approving “Oh!” from Hagumi, who nods back like she totally understands.

Misaki’s glad one of them does.

“And no allergies, uh, except I don’t like some herbs, but that’s not like… dangerous? So no.” She decides to skip the Sekai no Owari question, probably to spare Hagumi’s feelings - and thankfully, Hagumi’s already running down the next points in the list.

“Do you, uhm… partake of Bacchus’ juice, what’d this mean-- oh! Drink? Do you drink?”

“...no offence, but why does that matter?” At this point, the list feels less like a weird job description and more like a personality test - and if Hagumi ends up asking about that, the answer’s ISFJ.

“Ah, no, um, it’s not like that! It’s, uh..” Hagumi fidgets, pulling back the sheet, and then half-scrunching it up as she jams it into her bag, like she regrets even bringing it out in the first place. “See, I had to ask for a lot of my friends’ advice when I was settin’ this up, and they came up with this thing, like, a 100 point doctrine of figuring out if I found the right girl!” She sounds defensive - but less like she wants to excuse herself, and more the people who ghostwrote the whole thing. “They’re real smart, like one of ‘em’s Mensa-tested, and Kaoru-kun - uh, my other friend, she’s really good with girls, and, so, I thought they’d come up with good ideas!”

In penance, Hagumi slides the nachos over the laminated table back towards Misaki, the squeaking of the plate not sounding all that different to Hagumi, and for now Misaki lets them stay on her side of the table

“Was it a bit too much…?”

“Maybe.” Misaki picks up a fresh chip, this one slathered with salsa - probably not _too_ much, probably - and crunches down on it. She doesn’t want to be the bad guy here, but, there’s kind of an obvious thing she needs to address. “Hey, you know, since it said ‘hiring’ and all, are you gonna… pay me for-- _khkk--_ ” _Shit._ **_Way_ ** _too much salsa._

As Misaki coughs and sputters, her hand over her mouth to catch any taco chips she spits out, Hagumi’s already on her feet, scrambling to get the jug of water off the shop counter. Water’s spilling onto the floor as she frantically pours Misaki a glass and slams it down in front of her, making even more of a wet mess as she does, but Misaki appreciates the… _unusual_ level of care. She hasn’t exactly done anything to deserve it. A gulp calms the cough down, although she has to tilt her head back a little so she doesn’t sputter it out afterwards; and Hagumi giving her a sudden smack to the back doesn’t help. It’s a lot, and Misaki eventually waves her away, taking a deep breath and coming back to normal.

Hagumi awkwardly takes her seat again, fists balling up on the tabletop, neither of them really sure who should speak first, after that.

“This is about paying you, right?” Oh. At least Hagumi can cut the crap sometimes.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t really have… too much money, right now… or nice stuff to give you, but! You saw the flyer, right?”

“...the croquettes?” Of course there wasn’t any money involved, because the flyer had legit been Hagumi looking for an honest to god socially ackward (sic) girlfriend, and this genuinely wasn’t a sex _or_ serial killer thing.

“Mm! And hugs! And alllll my love, and…” Her eyes look up at Misaki’s head, and her lips form a tight squiggle. “Prooobably not headpats?”

 _Yeah. That’s right, everything there’s cool except the headpats_.

“...why not?”

“You keep your cap on even when inside! That’s, like, anti-headpat body language, right? And I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin’.” One of the servers is looking at them, after their little _moment_ with the water; they don’t look too interested, luckily, mostly just weirded out. “...although maaaybe I did that already?” Hagumi’s looking at her twice as intensely as the staffer is, anyway. “Sorry! If I did!”

“No, it’s… it’s cool. Don’t worry about it.” She’s way too weird, well-meaning, earnestly caring to be uncomfortable; like Hina, but with the baseless confidence replaced with being hopelessly gay.

...it’s kind of sweet, maybe.

“If you’re not gonna pay me, though, I… dunno how much time I have for this, though.” She’s just being honest - better to be clear why she’s here, rather than lead Hagumi on too much; it’d be wrong to get her hopes up.

“Oh. You, uh, kinda tight in the wallet department too?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” Tight enough that she was half willing to engage in compensated dating if it didn’t involve making googly eyes at some gross old dude, after all. She feels like Hagumi’s probably not all that better off, aside from having the innocence and/or dignity to not even consider selling herself.

“D-don’t worry! I got enough money for the nachos! And ice cream!” Hagumi reaches down into her bag again, a coin purse and a scrunched up note in her hand, just in case Misaki doesn’t believe her. (But Misaki _does,_ because despite everything, she’s got a lot of faith in humanity, and earnest girls with weirdly handsome boyish faces.

Even she’s allowed to be stupid once in a while.)

“Uh, no, seriously, I know you do. And don’t worry about the icecream.” Reaching across the table, she tries to push against Hagumi’s hand, something about how she’s getting her cash out and trying to prove something triggering Misaki’s own social anxieties, and their hands touch for-- a while. Not too long, probably, maybe, except considering the situation, _any_ contact has meaning.

Probably… a lot of meaning for Hagumi, whose hand holds there, and Misaki wonders if she’s keeping it there on purpose. Neither of them want to meet each other’s gaze, she thinks. She assumes it, because she’s not going to look in Hagumi’s direction, stretching her arm out as far as it can go to push Hagumi back, and by the end, she pulls back her hand first.

Hagumi’s hands leave the table, in uneasy solidarity. Misaki kind of wants to text Hina, or Rimi, or _anyone,_ just to break out of this weird tense atmosphere between the two of them, but-- that kind of feels rude. But she also doesn’t know what to say, or do, except reach once again for the nachos.

Pretty socially acward of her.

The mood’s gone so south that Misaki doesn’t even feel like she can beat a hasty retreat, apologise for getting Hagumi’s hopes up and then hopefully never come across her ever again. That’d’ve been fine a couple minutes ago, even after the topic of money came up, but then she ended up touching Hagumi’s hand, and things got… weird. Plus Hagumi looks so, well, _bad_. Not disappointed, not sad, not like she’s had her time wasted, just… bad. She’s gone from fluorescent bright to outright _dim,_ and  her face is covered with guilt and embarrassment, and Misaki knows that because, well, she knows those feelings well.

Life would be so much easier without empathy.

“Hey, Hagumi.”

“Yeah…?”

Misaki moves her hand up her forehead, brushing up her cap and sliding under it, ruffling her own hair - and the way her forearm hangs over her eyes, keeping her from looking right at Hagumi, makes this a lot easier to do.

“I… don’t think you can hire me, if you’d not paying.”

“Yeah.”

...also, god, is she patting her own head? She almost wants to pat Hagumi’s, instead.

“But, how about… we go out on like, a trial basis?”

“Like a free trial?”

“...yeah.” Could’ve had-- better phrasing, Misaki thinks, but Hagumi’s not wrong, in a way. Kinda like downloading After Effects to make one video for some school project, and then never opening it up ever again until it’s time to uninstall the entire bloated demo package from your computer.

“...you, uh, really sure about this?”

“Up to you.” It’s such an unexpected, weird offer that it doesn’t just shock herself, now she’s said it and had a few seconds to _think_ about it, but almost knocks Hagumi dead. Misaki _really_ hopes the one server isn’t paying too close attention. “Maybe… four dates?” _Maybe less_. “Five.”

...well done, Misaki’s brain, because ‘five’ is less than ‘four’. _Fuck three_. She’s never fucking heard of the number three in her life.

“F-five!?” And she can’t take it back, now that that number’s made Hagumi look like she’s just had three-- _five_ Christmases at once, and the light’s finally back in her eyes. “That’s… that’s really, really, _really_ nice of you, Misaki. Super nice. Jeez. Bet I’m blushin’!” She’s on the money - from ear to ear, even.

“Too nice?” She pretends it’s a question, when it’s a statement.

“Hehe. Maybe?”

Finding a suitable reply is hard, so Misaki just grabs at a huge cheesy cluster of nachos and shoves it into her mouth, because _someone_ has to be the top in this situation.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! i already have more of the fic written out, so that should come out soon-ish!?
> 
> in case it wasn't clear - this is a college-y AU where Misaki's never met Hagumi or the other HHWs, but is friends with Hina because... uh.......... who wouldn't be?? the setting is pretty nebulous, but i wanted to age them up bc a. more fun, b. they can. actually get to be out this way.
> 
> any/all feedback would be greatly appreciated!


End file.
